The Last Gift
by DemonRoseAlexiel
Summary: It was the last thing he could give her, to make up for all those years. One-sided Caveline. A Portal oneshot I wrote for 2015 portal secret santa, and I decided to publish it here. Has a few curse words, but nothing major.


**The Last Gift**

"Put it more to the right."

"Here, sir?"

"No, not your right _my_ right."

Caroline was currently standing on a stepladder, arms outstretched and clutching onto a crystal snowflake. She was following Cave Johnson's vague instructions in how to decorate a Christmas tree. Pine needles were already falling off and carpeting the floor. She had insisted that they purchase a plastic replica that looked just as good and cost less, but her boss would not accept anything but the real deal.

Her high heels were halfway across the room from where she had kicked them off. Wearing four inch heels on a wobbly surface just invited her to get a broken neck. It wasn't good Science.

"Right there, that's it! Now put that orange one a little below it. Not that far. Perfect."

With the last ornament in place, Caroline climbed down and surveyed her work. It wasn't the most elegant tree in the world, but it certainly made a statement. Tiny white lights wrapped in and out of its branches. It was mostly covered in bright garlands of orange and blue, in part to celebrate the company's achievement with quantum tunneling technology and in part to the fact that Cave thought green and red would subliminally give the lab boys the impression they could have the holidays off. If he was here working his butt off dealing with those stupid environmental lobbyists and worker's union lackeys, then so would they!

"How does it look?"

"Fantastic! Couldn't have done it better myself. Well, maybe except for the star a little lopsided there. But that gives it character. Says, screw tradition! It can be crooked if it wa- _ **kshHAHaAHEM**_ "

Some of the pine needles had flown into the air, carrying with them dust that started up one of Cave's constant coughing fits.

"Sir, I told you we should have gotten a tree manufactured. It's affecting your health."

"Caroline, my health went out the window years ago. One plant isn't going to make it any better or worse."

"Yes, but they're making a mess all over the floor."

"Well, it's my office, and I decorate it how I want. Hell, I could get five year olds to finger paint the walls, get their snotty hands in the carpet, and it would still look better than the classiest penthouse at the Ritz. It's all about authenticity, Caroline! If Christmas means a few pointy leaves on the rug, so be it!"

"I didn't mean anything by it. I'm just looking out for your well-being. Besides, didn't you cancel Christmas last year?"

"Well, that was last year. The only reason I did that was because those egg-nogg drunk idiots made that faulty core that throws coal at people. Didn't wanna deal with those parents moaning about how their children were 'suffering concussions and severe emotional and mental trauma'. If your kid can't take a few pebbles to the head, then why cry and try to sue me over it. Damn lawyers. Can't tell the difference between whining idiots and people in real pain."

"And who would they be, sir?"

"Real men who don't throw a pissy fit every time they so much as get lightly tapped on the back of the skull. Real men don't cry about it, they suck it up, kick it in the teeth, and embarrass it on national television with that drunk, naked picture of it at its own wedding!"

"Like you did to the previous PR director?"

"Yes, and damn was it satisfying. Oh, that gives me an idea. Make a note to the lab boys on developing a pill that makes a man numb to pain. Something that deadens nerves. There's gotta be a way to do that. Then, we can sell it to the military."

"Noted, sir. Also, I wanted to let you know that preparations for the Genetic Lifeform and Disc Operating System have moved passed the design stage and are being tested as we speak. They are also currently preparing for the fifth round of testing on the new portals made by conversion gel."

"Excellent! That's my girl! Always one step ahead of the ballpark!"

She blushed slightly at this. "Oh, Mr. Johnson, I'm just doing my job."

"Yes, and you do a fi- _ **agghHEMAGH"**_

He started coughing again, wracking his chair along with him. This time it took him much longer to calm down his breathing, eyes filled with stress.

He said to her in a loud whisper, "Caroline, would you mind, - _ **aggHHum**_ -getting me some more pain pills- _ughmm-_ and putting something a little more festive on?"

"Of course, sir."

She slipped into her heels and made her way to a bookshelf that also served as his medical cabinet. A wooden radio stood next to it.

As she made her way there, Cave looked on at his assistant. Over forty years she had stood at his side. Forty long years of ambition, hardship, success, and loss. Forty years of Science.

Most of the people whom Cave had employed over the years were either too stupid, too cowardly, or too short-sighted to realize the ambitious visions that he had. They were all concerned about things like "safety" and "procedure". Couldn't they see that keeping things safe wasn't right? If they kept things "safe", then where was the progress? Where was the change? Where was the Science? Science was about getting your hands dirty and changing the world by holding it up by its pants and taking its lunch money. Had Henry Ford quit when the engines of cars exploded in his face? Had Marie Curie quit when she discovered radiation and died of cancer from it? Hell, no! They looked the world in the face and said, "Not today, world. You're not going to beat me. Why? Because I'm making you better with science."

Most people didn't understand that. That's why Cave had had to fire someone almost every week. If they couldn't keep up to his high standards, then they could go get a job somewhere else. Not Caroline. She had always understood. She had always known just the amount of sacrifice it took to get Aperture off the ground and functional. His assistant was well-organized, patient, efficient, and knew how to manage the great beast of a company that Aperture had become. But, at the same time she was encouraging, perky, charming, and so lively that she never failed to plant a wide smile on his face.

And in all of that forty years, she had never changed. Even now, in their old age, her enthusiasm had never waned. Even now, with mountains of unpaid debt, Black Mesa's money-grubbing, idea stealing ass, stressful days full of these nerdy morons who he couldn't believe graduated with a lab degree. Even now, with him confined to his chair, writhing in pain, exhausted beyond belief despite his tireless will.

So what if some things didn't work out? That was the risk involved. Sometimes a hypothesis never made past design. Sometimes a prototype isn't exactly what he had envisioned. Sometimes you accidentally make a race of mutant Mantis-men that has to be sealed off before they eat the rest of the staff, or worse, those nosy government agents get wind of it. It took sacrifice and hard work. It was all for the greater goal. It was all for Science.

He knew that's how she wanted it too. There was nothing in this world he knew that would make her happier. Doing Science.

He had spent this long with her, and never told her. Despite thanking her for all her contributions, supporting her through all these years, he had never told her the truth. The truth of how he felt.

As she turned on the radio, a charming, slow rendition of _Winter Wonderland_ began to play out of the speakers.

She handed him his pills and a glass of wine, despite his doctor's warnings of mixing alcohol with prescription drugs. After taking a dose, Cave leaned back in his chair and looked to where Caroline stood behind him. She had her eyes closed, gently humming along. Her voice was pure and clear as the snow the song described, radiating nothing but sincerity and peace. It calmed him.

So there they took in the moment of another Christmas, another year gone by. The times had changed. Technology had come ramping full speed, employees had come and been fired, he was dying of an unknown disease caused by moon rocks. But, they had not changed. She had not changed.

He knew his time was drawing to a close. Cave had been hawking on the lab boys to hurry up with testing and get him in the damn machine already. However, he knew that there was a good chance that he would not be the one to lead the company into the future of Science. No, he knew it would be a good chance it would be _**her**_. He hadn't told her yet, didn't want to spoil the surprise.

He had given her a lot of Christmas gifts over the years, including that simple red scarf which she still wore around her neck. It was during Aperture's golden years, when they were both young and eager. However, he felt this year would be special.

He would be giving her the one thing she wanted. The ability to do one thing they both loved above all else. Forever. Brain uploading and computer science would allow her time beyond the normal limit given to a human. The great Cave Johnson would pass away, but **she** would run Aperture the way it should be run. He knew she could do it.

He would make her the goddess she was. It was the last gift he could ever give her, the only thing he could do to show her his gratitude. For all of these long, forty years.


End file.
